Bandages and Rabbits
by Jiminy The Cricket
Summary: A one-shot vignette (could be a what-if? or it could happen in the canon of LOST) of what happens when Hurley protects Ben from his abusive father. Contains child abuse and a bit of blood.


**I love reading all these friendship-fics between Ben and Hurley after the LOST finale, so I decided to write one where that friendship starts early... Over thirty years early to be precise... This could take place at some point during the Oceanic 6... 5's stay at the DHARMA Initiative in 1977 (Sawyer does mention having met young!Ben to Sayid at one point and I wondered whether the others had to...)**

**Also a special appearance by 'Eight' (Ben's rabbit who seems to have it's own mini fandom among the LOSTies...)**

* * *

Hurley was sat outside his house in the sun, eating an Apollo bar when he heard raised voices, muffled by the thick walls.  
Scratch that. One voice. Screaming.  
It was coming from two doors down. The Linus household.

When they'd first arrived and a twelve year old boy had popped up and introduced himself as Benjamin Linus, Hurley had almost fallen over in shock. The man who they hated for so long, the 'villain', the leader of The Others now being the twelve year old bookish kid living two doors down had been quite surreal, but after a few months he had got used to it. However, Sawyer had given him a lecture of how, despite not being able to change anything by Faraday's reckoning, it was best for them NOT to get involved in problems, just in case.

He had spotted Ben the day previously, sporting a large black eye on his way home from school, but in Hurley's experience of his future self he hadn't thought much of it. It seemed to be a daily occurrence for him. But then he thought how a twelve year old got into that sort of trouble.  
His question was answered a few seconds later when a large group of boys had approached from the opposite direction, right towards Ben, who was carrying a pile of books (again, not something out of the ordinary for Ben)  
"Hey, you! Book worm!" A jeer came from the group. Ben didn't look up as they approached "Oi, bug-eyes!" The main boy gave him a shove "I'm talking to you!"  
Hurley had watched the meek boy try to stick up for himself and end up with his books strewn in the mud and a bloodied nose and lip for his trouble, and as much as Hurley tried to remind himself of who the Ben Linus he knew, the future Ben Linus, was and what he had done, he couldn't stop his heart aching for him.  
He'd been that kid. Ridiculed for his size and habits and pushed around until he was meek and pathetic and unable to stand up for himself. He could see why Ben liked power.  
But he had followed what Sawyer had told him and he hasn't interfered, as much as his morals screamed at him to help.

But now, he could hear the smashing of plates and the yells of a man screaming things at someone.  
"You're worthless! You're pathetic! You hear me?" He could hear the drunken slurs even though the walls "You're a waste of space. Why can't you be normal, you little freak!?"  
Hurley recognised the voice of course. Roger Linus, the workman. A drunkard and a foul mouthed hair-trigger tempered one at that. He usually tried to ignore the mans yelling but today it was louder than ever, and today it was accompanied by the smashing of plates and, more disconcertingly, the yells of a boy.  
As he tried to bury his mind into the ingredients on the Apollo bar wrapper (a distraction he instantly regretted upon seeing the sheer amount of un-decodeable e-numbers strewn around the starred packaging) when he heard a loud scream of pain.  
He'd had enough.  
He threw down the bar and ran across the grass as fast as possible towards the house.  
He hammered on the door, unsure what to do, but then when no answer came, instead another crash and another yell of pain, he burst through the door, thanking god that Roger had forgotten to lock it behind him.

Roger stood in the centre of the living room, carnage around him. Smashed plates and glasses littered the floor as well as ornaments and books, some of their pages torn and one or two without their covers. What appalled Hurely though, was the sight of the boy crouched, trembling in the corner of the room, several deep cuts littering his arms, legs and face, a fresh black eye over his right eye and a nose pouring with blood. The boy looked up at him with those wide eyes Hurley knew all to well, wearing that look of complete shock and horror that he often wore when a surprise was sprung, often by Locke, or when he was under the guise of Henry Gale; only this time he wasn't under any disguise, he wasn't faking it.

The kid was terrified.  
"Hey!" Hurley yelled, seeing the plate clutched in Roger's hand, but it was to late. Roger threw it and it hit the wall next to Ben, shattering and the shards digging into his skin, allowing more blood to flow, earning another scream from Ben who desperately curled in on himself to protect himself.  
Hurley barrelled into Roger, sending him crashing to the floor and knocking him unconscious.  
Ben stared at him in utter shock and awe, which hit Hurley hard. This kid was evidently used to everyone turning a blind eye to his plight and had long ago given up hope of help ever coming.  
"You alright, kid?" He asked, trying to look unperturbed. Ben nodded but Hurley could see the kid was definitely not alright (OK, so back in present day... Wherever that was… Ben got beaten up a lot, hell it was practically a hobby for him, but usual occurrence in the future or not, Ben was only twelve and shouldn't have blood running down his face and staining his clothes.)  
"Do you want to be taken to the sick-bay?" He stepped forward  
Ben flinched away, retreating back a few steps  
"N-no. I'm fine. Really." Ben said, backing away, looking very much like one the rabbits Hurley saw him playing with so often  
"No offence, but you're really not fine, Dude." Hurely told him  
"It's nothing I'm not used to. Really. I'm fine."  
"Well at least let me help you patch yourself up." He said, going over to the cupboard and getting out the DHARMA first aid kit.

For now this child wasn't Benjamin Linus to Hurley, this was just a terrified twelve year old who needed as much help as he could get.  
"What about my dad?" Ben motioned to the unconscious drunk on the floor.  
Hurley paused for a moment, before lifting him onto the sofa. Ben pulled a blanket out from under it and draped it over him, hinting to Hurley that this wasn't the first time Ben had found his dad unconscious on the couch.  
After that, Hurley sat Ben down and helped him clean the wounds of any alcohol left in the glasses he had thrown at him, and patched up the cuts.  
"Will he be angry when he wakes up?" Hurley asked, nervous about how the man would take his impromptu attack  
"He usually doesn't remember much after he wakes up." Ben explained, not looking up as he wiped the blood on his arm away with an antiseptic wipe "Sometimes I have to tell him I tripped and fell or got beaten up after school to explain away the bruises."  
"Why don't you tell him the truth?"  
"I did once." Ben grimaced "...he didn't like it. Now I just lie to him." Ben looked at him sadly "Sometimes the truth hurts to much."

Hurley shivered internally, recalling Future-Ben's penchant for making things up  
_'Must be where he learnt to lie so well'_ he reasoned.  
"You should tell someone, you know. You're not helping yourself keeping quiet."  
"I tried, but they don't do anything. They hear it. I know they can, they're just to scared to blow the whistle on him."  
"Why?"  
"Noone likes a whistle-blower around here. You end up as ridiculed as the man you blew the whistle on."  
"Dude..." Hurley breathed "So you mean like... Everyone knows?"  
"They just turn a blind-eye to it. My dad isn't exactly the best person to make angry, and it's not as if I matter anyway-"  
Hurley put a hand on his shoulder and stared him in the eyes  
"That's not true, Ben." Hurley said "Who knows, one day you could be running this joint."  
Ben snorted  
"Yeah, like that'll happen." He winced as Hurley put a wet cloth on one of his wounds "You might have noticed that I'm not the most authoritative person here..."  
"I'll tell you a secret..." Hurley leant closer "Neither's LeFleur. Before he came here the only thing he could do was start an argument in an empty room." This earned a smile "Just don't tell him I said so..."

Ben smiled "Don't worry, I won't..."  
Ben broke off, reaching across the table to a cage, inside sat a small white rabbit, a large number 8 stencilled on its back in black ink. Allowing Hurley to put on another plaster (marked with a DHARMA logo, of course), Ben opened the cage and lifted the rabbit out and onto his lap. Hurley remembered the image of the older Ben holding an identical rabbit in thirty years time.

"I'll be fine from here, Hugo." Ben said, fondling the rabbit's ears. Hurley stood up and threw the empty bandage wrappers in the bin.

"Dude, call me Hurley." Hurley told him with a smile "Everyone else does."

"Ok then… Hurley." Ben tasted the new word, smiling

"And remember, dude, I'm always around so if that jerk starts anything again…" Hurley let the sentence hang, the rest not needing to be said. Ben nodded.

"Thanks, Hurley." He said

"You're welcome, dude." Hurley said, smiling to him before walking out the door. He shut the door, but not before taking a last glance of the twelve-year old Ben cradling his rabbit in the living room.

"Well…" Hurley said to himself as he made his way back to his house. "That was surreal…"


End file.
